[Verse 1: DEADCRW]
I be the local standard for what not become
Looked down upon like a father smoking weed with his son
That's 5 years old, i speak a different tongue
The loneliness just overcomes then I succumb to scum
I walk around chewing gum with Marc Jacobs on for the sun
And my homies like: "300 for those!? Nigga, that's just dumb!"
Nigga, that's just funds, get it done & spend it dumb
Stupid, i puff two spliffs and feel like I could reach the sun
Therefore, these coppas just can't reach me
Till i come down & think back to when they was beneath me
I get high again, feeling untouchable
Next day getting pull over, cops suddenly touching you
Pots suddenly comfortable to just drop it
But then again, how the fuck am I supposed to earn this profit
A 9-5 topic can't top it, that's out of topic
So these bags of weed is what I fill my pockets..
..with
[Chorus: DEADCRW]
A good kid in a fucked situation
Rolling good piff by the ounce for meditation
& immigration wanna throw me out this nation
Ain't no time for hesitation, profits in rotation
Below the middle class, I wrote this riddle fast
Just so I could get to class & sell some of this grass
To help my parents cash last & move on with our past
Cause the past is, to be forgotten like bastards
Or criminals in caskets, this is how deep Cas gets
[Verse 2: DEADCRW]
K-9's smell the K lines & weed in the trunk
Im tryna make it seem like I just ran over a skunk
"excuse me mister officer, i don't often stir up the funk
But this is medical its not like im driving drunk"
Its blunt trauma, after this blunt ima
Reconsider my lifestyle & hug my mama
Then go back on that strip with a zip of the piff
& go back to that fifth of the whisk & sip till I cliff
Hang, dang its funny how shit changes
Last week i was at my peak hitting Gods ranges
& now im with park rangers, & dark strangers, in danger
First to go of the BlackCrows, now my species endangered
Truly wonder what its like in jail
Im assuming its time consuming & somewhat like hell
Oh well, i played the cards they dealt & utterly failed
Time to face the consequences, no posting the bail
[Chorus: DEADCRW]
A good kid in a fucked situation
Rolling good piff by the ounce for meditation
& immigration wanna throw me out this nation
Ain't no time for hesitation, profits in rotation
Below the middle class, I wrote this riddle fast
Just so I could get to class & sell some of this grass
To help my parents cash last & move on with our past
Cause the past is, to be forgotten like bastards
Or criminals in caskets, this is how deep Cas gets
Paraphernalia was written by DEADCRW.
Paraphernalia was produced by Flamingosis.